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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839238">Chance of a Lifetime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien'>julien (julie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>K2: The Ultimate High (1991)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friends to Lovers, Last Chance for Love, Love as an Adventure, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>1997-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>1997-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:15:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The beautiful, persuasive Taylor has talked Harold into trying just about everything when it comes to mountaineering. Now Taylor has a different kind of adventure in mind, and this time it’s Harold who has the necessary experience.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Taylor Brooks/Harold Jameson (K2)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chance of a Lifetime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>First published:</strong> in my zine Homosapien #5 on 10 October 1997.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Chance of a Lifetime </h1>
<p>♦</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I  don’t want to die,’ Harold said. He was lying on that mountain, ten thousand  feet above base camp, with a broken leg. ‘But you can still make it, Taylor,  you can make it if you go now. I’m going to die up here.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Taylor  said, ‘You’re not going to die, H,’ using that determined tone of voice Taylor  made things happen with. This time, however, he was not going to work miracles  through sheer force of will.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I  can’t walk.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I’ll  carry you.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But  it was useless. Harold had lost their only rope when he fell. And there was  barely enough time for Taylor to get back to camp before the rescue helicopter  left, let alone get down there, get help and return before Harold died of  exposure. Harold had accepted the reality of the situation even if Taylor, so  much more experienced in adventuring of all kinds, still fought it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fumbling  inside his jacket, Harold found his wedding ring, worn on a cord around his  neck for safe-keeping. ‘I want you to give this to Cindy. Tell her – God,  I don’t know.’ He kissed the gold band, thinking of her smile, her beauty, her  forthright honesty. ‘Tell her I loved her. Tell her I’m sorry.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Churlish,  Taylor said, ‘Tell her yourself, H.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Oh,  come on, Taylor,’ Harold said with great impatience; ‘I can’t walk. Now just  take it, OK? Just get out of here.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The  man shook his head, stayed there huddled over Harold as if there was no other  place to be.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘What  are you going to do? You gonna sit here and die with me? Bullshit!’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Do  you have any idea what you’re asking me to do?’ Taylor said, voice tight with  emotion. ‘You’re the only real friend I have, you bastard. I’m not leaving you  here, do you understand that? I can’t live with that.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You  don’t have a choice, Taylor.’ Harold almost laughed. ‘You never had a problem  with being selfish before, it’s practically been your religion. Why make such a  big deal of it now?’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In a  whisper, Taylor insisted, ‘It’s not going to work, H.’ He continued, slightly  stronger, ‘You’ve got your wife and your kid, your research, and that’s great  for you. My whole life has been about me; my work is about lies and compromise  and dealing with the scum of the earth. So I come to places like this with you  to find a little grace, you know?’ The wistfulness was replaced by anger: ‘I  don’t want to be selfish all my life. I want some nobility, damn it.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You  want grace, you want nobility, go back. If you’re really my friend, Taylor,  that’s exactly what you’ve got to do. I want you to look after my son, and tell  him I loved him very much. Please,’ Harold said, thinking of Eric and Cindy and  Taylor and himself, ‘you have to go back. Please.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Finally  the man agreed with a nod. ‘You’re a prince, H,’ he said. ‘A real winner.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You  know what I always admired about you, Taylor? You’re a born survivor. I got  everything I wanted, but I had to give up everything to get it. Is that  winning?’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Taylor  leaned towards him, hugged him hard though they were separated by too many  layers of clothing for Harold to really feel it. ‘I love you, H.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And  then he was gone, and Harold lay there in the snow, murmuring ‘Taylor’ every  now and then, and crying out ‘Cindy!’</em>
</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Almost seven months since he and Taylor had  climbed K2, which was plenty long enough for life to have settled back into  routine. Harold’s painstaking research was beginning to hint at success, and  his grant had been renewed in his absence (for quantum physics was apparently  still flavor of the month down here in the mundane world). His leg had finally  healed, through all the care and physiotherapy, so he no longer needed a  walking stick. He’d always carry a few scars, especially where he’d lost some  skin to frostbite, but the pain had gone. And Eric still adored him.</p>
<p>Cindy, surprisingly enough, had been fine  about the whole business. She had almost stopped Harold from going on the K2  expedition, scared he might die, resenting even more time he’d spend away from  her and the baby. But everything seemed fine now he’d come back, everything was  cool between them.</p>
<p>As for Harold and Taylor, well, their  friendship was deeper than ever. Taylor still played the sleaze in every other  part of his life – he still bedded the office girls, he’d even seduced the  girlfriend of a guy he was prosecuting. He still did deals with criminals  (knowing that the law had nothing to do with justice), he was still arrogant  and irrepressible and determined to win.</p>
<p>But when the two of them were alone, then  Taylor dropped most of the bullshit, dropped more of the act than he ever had  before. He would be quiet, and kind of vulnerable in a ‘dare you’ way that  Harold had never taken advantage of, all with that broad, deadly, beautiful  smile.</p>
<p>Cindy really disliked Taylor, of course; had  no time for him at all. Some things never changed.</p>
<p>Yes, everything was cool. In fact, Cindy’s  face these days was cool, her expression kind of removed, watching Harold with  wary interest. He should have seen the end of it coming.</p>
<p>‘I always thought that when I left you it  would be for different reasons,’ she said one evening, out of the blue. No, it  was more as if she was continuing a conversation they’d begun years ago, or she  was voicing a dialogue that had been fermenting in her imagination. ‘I always  thought that I wouldn’t want to go, that I’d feel driven away, betrayed by you,  hating the way you never quite loved me enough.’</p>
<p>‘What?’ Harold whispered, though in his  heart he had already accepted the reality of the situation. His heart that felt  as dark and hard and cold as a rock below the summit of K2.</p>
<p>‘Your work and your research, Professor,  always came first. Your mountains and your friend Taylor, they came first, too.  I wanted Eric and me to be your priority.’</p>
<p>They were sitting at the kitchen table, the  remains of dinner spread before them, Eric fast asleep in Harold’s arms. Harold  looked at his wife, his beautiful unusual wife, and he was mourning for both of  them already.</p>
<p>Cindy wasn’t angry: rather, she was sad. Sad  and cool. ‘But now I realize I <em>want</em> to go, I want to find something else, someone else. I want to make my own  priorities now.’</p>
<p>‘I love you,’ Harold said.</p>
<p>‘There’s been nothing between us since you  decided to go up that mountain, haven’t you noticed? You are always so caught  up in your own world. Taylor has taught you how to be selfish.’</p>
<p>‘That’s not fair, Cindy, don’t go blaming  Taylor for any of it. I wasn’t wrong to try for everything I ever wanted,  sweetheart. I had it all, just for a moment, I had it all.’</p>
<p>She regarded him with that removed  interest. ‘I’ll share custody with you, because you were always a good father,  for those few minutes every day you allowed us. I’ll be fair, for Eric’s sake,  and for my sake, and even for your sake.’</p>
<p>‘All right,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’</p>
<p>‘But I want to know one thing before we end  this. Tell me what happened up there on that mountain, I want to know the  truth.’</p>
<p>‘Ah,’ Harold said, a small smile stretching  his mouth. ‘I would have died up there on that mountain,’ he said in quiet slow  tones, ‘but for Taylor. He saved my life, when I thought I was already dead.’</p>
<p>‘You’ve told me that,’ Cindy said with some  impatience. ‘You always say that, you use almost those exact words every time,  but you never tell me what actually happened. I want to know, I want to  understand. Because there’s something between you and Taylor now. Something  spiritual.’</p>
<p>Harold frowned at her, then dropped his  gaze to Eric. She was right, of course. He’d kept the whole thing close to him,  kept the love and the death and the bravery for himself and for Taylor, because  it was precious. But he owed Cindy, and this was what she’d asked for. ‘We were  climbing down from the summit, just Taylor and me,’ he began, words whispered  dry. ‘The pressure was on, because a storm had blown up, and we knew we had to  get back to camp within a day or they’d leave without us. There was ice, I lost  my footing. Taylor was below me, I took him down with me, only he caught onto  the slope, and I fell and broke my leg. We had no rope, no supplies, I’d lost  them all.’</p>
<p>‘Yes,’ Cindy prompted.</p>
<p>‘It was my fault, but he never reproached  me, never got angry. I couldn’t walk, I was going to die. He sat there with me,  would have just stayed there with me, and we both would have died. The only way  he’d survive was to leave me alone there, so I made him go. It was the hardest  thing for him to do, but I made him go. I gave him my wedding ring to give to  you, told him he had to help you take care of Eric for me.’</p>
<p>A nod at this, and Harold thought of how  difficult that situation would have been for Cindy and Taylor. But Eric would  have brought out the best in them both.</p>
<p>Impossible to tell her more, to explain  about grace and nobility, without betraying the heart of Taylor. Instead,  Harold continued, ‘There was another man on that mountain, another man from our  expedition, his name was Dallas. He was already dead. Taylor found Dallas, and  took his rope and stuff, and he came back for me. He didn’t have to come back  for me, Cindy. The smart thing to do would have been to keep climbing down to  reach the helicopter.’</p>
<p>‘And who’d have thought Taylor wouldn’t do  the smart thing.’</p>
<p>Harold couldn’t tell Cindy of the shared  pain and utter exhaustion of Taylor dragging him and lifting him and carrying  him down that mountain. The terrifying thing about the pain was that you wanted  to live despite it, you wanted to live even with it. He wouldn’t tell her of  that moment of stillness, hours of stillness when Taylor had – no, not given  up. There came a time when even Taylor simply couldn’t go on any further, so he’d  curled up in the snow with Harold, had cuddled up to him and fallen asleep, and  Harold had known with the sweetest clearest sadness that they would both die.</p>
<p>But, beyond hope and beyond belief, Jacki  had brought the helicopter up to find them.</p>
<p>‘I climb mountains,’ Harold offered, ‘because  it takes all my strength and all my courage. And because, standing there on top  of the world, I know the truth of my life. I don’t find that truth anywhere  else, it’s even not in physics.’</p>
<p>‘I know,’ Cindy said. A long moment. ‘There’s  more you’re not telling me, but that’s between you and your friend.’</p>
<p>‘It feels good to share this with you,’  Harold said. ‘I’ll try harder, I’ll do better at this. I love you, Cindy.’</p>
<p>‘I know you do, H, but it’s over. The truth  is, I wanted you to be something you’re not, I tried to change you. That’s no  good for a relationship, that’s nothing to base a marriage on. I’m sorry, H,  but I have better things to do with my life now.’</p>
<p>The strange thing was, he could smile. He  could say, ‘I understand.’ He could even say, ‘It’s good that you go and live  your life now, sweetheart; you be all that you can be.’ Even as his heart  became heavy frozen rock.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Whoever said that women liked their men  tall, dark and handsome, had got one crucial adjective wrong.</p>
<p>Taylor was the most drop-dead handsome man  Harold had ever seen. And Taylor was tall, too; tall and lean and muscled; a  perfect body for mountain-climbing and adventuring. But he wasn’t dark, no. Taylor  had honey-blond hair, always cut sharp and expensive, but casual as well with  that fringe falling every time he moved. In fact Taylor’s hair was flowing  honey-gold silk. His eyes were dark, but the warmest of browns. His voice  matched the warm richness, even when he was pouring forth his worst patter.</p>
<p>Then there was that killer smile few could  resist.</p>
<p>Compared to Taylor, Harold knew he looked  terrible, though he’d never really minded. Harold was a complete geek, a nerd  of the highest order, with a mess of curly hair no one could tame, glasses he  had to wear all the time, a nose too large, and nothing else of significance. With  long-suffering patience, he’d had to let Cindy get to know him well enough to  see past the packaging before she fell in love with him, all the time worrying  of course that Taylor would notice and try to win her. The only reason Harold  wasn’t a virgin at that stage was because he’d developed the knack of seducing  Taylor’s rejects and cast-offs.</p>
<p>After Cindy threw him out, Harold had moved  in with Taylor, of course. It seemed the obvious thing to do.</p>
<p>Taylor’s style was not the sort that could  be cramped, so that wasn’t an issue. Almost every other night Harold would wake  to hear some woman moaning like she’d discovered heaven in Taylor’s bedroom; every  other morning the latest conquest or the self-possessed regular would grab a  quick cup of coffee, meeting Harold’s gaze unashamed while he munched his  muesli, before dashing off in her morning-after finery. In between times,  Harold often had the apartment to himself, and assumed Taylor was getting lucky  elsewhere. Harold found himself surprised (and surprised at being surprised  after all these years) by the sheer volume of traffic through Taylor’s bed.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that Harold’s presence was  interrupting Taylor’s usual pursuits, but there was something that wasn’t quite  the same between them. A slight edge, the hint of tension, where before Taylor  had been open and comfortable with him. Even when they were alone, Harold and  Taylor only seemed to relax ninety-nine percent now, and Harold missed what  they’d had. Perhaps it was a natural result of them living together, sharing  more personal space-time than ever. God knew they had driven each other crazy  often enough, the two of them cramped into a tiny tent on some mountain for  nights on end.</p>
<p>Harold began wondering about how and where  he could live alone, though the idea depressed him. He didn’t want to live  alone, didn’t want to try warming some place all by himself, couldn’t see  himself filling whole rooms up without any love, would never banish the quiet  barren emptiness on his own. No, he’d far rather be with Cindy and Eric, or  with Taylor. But apparently neither option was really possible.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>‘You liked being married, right?’ Taylor  asked one Friday evening. They’d been sitting in front of the television with a  beer or two, watching some stupid movie about a bunch of mountaineers and  picking it to pieces. Taylor had provided a surprisingly lame excuse for not  going out to hunt the female of the species, and Harold assumed that even  Taylor might get tired sometimes. The man asked, ‘What’s so great about  marriage?’</p>
<p>‘Waking up with someone every morning,’  Harold immediately replied. Catching Taylor’s smirk, he added, ‘The <em>same</em> someone. Knowing her warmth and  taste and smell and touch like she’s all the home you’ll ever want or need,  snuggling blindly up to her. Knowing her and letting her know you so well that  you can just relax and be exactly who you are, no pretenses. Company,  friendship,’ he continued, waving his bottle of beer expansively, ‘good things  like that.’</p>
<p>‘That’s it? You didn’t mention sex.’</p>
<p>‘That, too, buddy. Yeah, over time you get  to know each other real well, and the sex just gets better and better. You  probably don’t believe me about that.’</p>
<p>Taylor was silent for a moment. ‘I’ve never  had the chance to find out.’ Another pause, and then he said, ‘I want you to  stay here with me, H.’</p>
<p>‘But I was trying to tell you the other  day, Taylor, something just doesn’t feel right any more. When we’re alone – not  tonight, maybe – we’re usually kind of wary now. Reminds me of how Cindy got  during those last few months, if you really want to know. Wary and removed and  cool. I don’t want that for us, I don’t want to lose our friendship.’</p>
<p>‘There’s no question of that.’</p>
<p>Harold persisted, ‘I don’t want to lose the  best parts of it. We used to be… I never told you this, but Cindy said there  was something spiritual between us.’</p>
<p>‘Well, she was right.’</p>
<p>The comment deserved a laugh of surprise. ‘That’s  the first time you and Cindy ever agreed about anything.’</p>
<p>‘Except you,’ Taylor said, attention wholly  focused on Harold now, the TV forgotten. ‘We both always wanted you to  ourselves. I guess you’re a pretty special human being, H. You’re a prince.’</p>
<p>‘Well, now you have me,’ Harold said  sourly. ‘I guess you won that one.’</p>
<p>‘I want you to stay here, live with me.’ And  then Taylor was talking low and intense, the tones he used when he wanted to  talk Harold into something: ‘Lord, how often have we slept together, H? After a  night out raging. Up a mountain somewhere. You can wake up to me, you know my  warmth and smell and touch already. You know me, you’re the only person in the  world who knows me –’</p>
<p>‘What are you talking about?’ Harold  whispered, confused, and afraid that he knew what Taylor was heading towards.</p>
<p>The man’s honey-gold voice continued  without pause, as unstoppable as an avalanche. ‘You can be yourself with me. I  love you, H, because of who you are, and because you’re the only person in my  entire life who ever loved me. Company, friendship, we have those things.’</p>
<p>‘Taylor, please…’</p>
<p>‘Stay here with me, H. Don’t leave, don’t  miss this chance.’</p>
<p>A brief, awful silence. Harold let out a  nervous laugh. ‘That’s it?’ he asked lightly. ‘You didn’t mention sex.’</p>
<p>‘Oh, yeah,’ Taylor said in the most  seductive of tones, ‘that, too, buddy. That, too.’</p>
<p>‘But… this is completely out of the blue. I  wish you and Cindy would stop doing this to me.’ Harold had his hands wrapped  firmly around his beer bottle, not caring if he shattered it. He tried to read  his friend’s expression, but the lights were dimmed, and the television’s  diffuse colors didn’t help. ‘I don’t understand, Taylor. Where’s this coming  from? You love <em>women</em>, remember? There  isn’t room in your life – there isn’t room in your <em>bed</em> for me waking up beside you.’</p>
<p>‘The room’s always been there, H. I’ve been  filling it in different ways.’</p>
<p>‘You’ve been trying to fill it,’ Harold  repeated stupidly, ‘with me?’</p>
<p>‘No, not until now. Except with your  friendship. Come on,’ Taylor said reasonably, ‘you know this: I love the  fucking, but I’m aware it doesn’t mean a whole lot. There were only going to be  so many years I could kid myself that the fucking, all the different women,  filled up that hole in my life. And then it was too late, H, it was too much a  habit to just fuck them rather than try for love. I mean, how do you pick one  after you’ve known them all?’ He grinned a little, but leaned closer to draw  attention to his words: ‘How did Warren Beatty know that Annette Benning was  the one for him? Was it a completely random choice, did she just happen to be  the one he was with at the time, or was there something about her he’d been  looking for all along?’</p>
<p>Harold shook his head, trying to dislodge  the confusion. ‘But, I mean, I’m a <em>man</em>,  Taylor. You’ve never wanted it with a man before, have you? This just doesn’t  make any sense.’</p>
<p>‘Well, I’ve never done it, but I’ve thought  about it plenty.’ He sounded relaxed, as if it really wasn’t an issue. ‘Someone  once said to me anyone who’s highly sexed is almost bound to be bisexual; you  know, just want to fuck anything with a pulse. But down here, there are enough  women to go round. And up there on the mountains, something else fills that  hole in my life, or close enough to it. I guess that’s why I climb mountains,  otherwise I would have spun you a line before now. Because I’ve sure thought  about you, H.’</p>
<p>‘I’m flattered,’ Harold said. ‘Don’t get me  wrong about that, I’m not offended or disgusted or anything. But I’ve never  thought about it, me and another man. Not really. I don’t know what to think. Which  is ridiculous.’ Harold let out a laugh, genuinely amused by his own reactions.  ‘I mean, I haven’t had any for weeks, unlike you. The first time I’m  propositioned by anyone but Cindy for years, and I’m just sitting here feeling  numb.’</p>
<p>And Taylor said, real low and sincere, ‘I’m  not propositioning you, H.’</p>
<p>‘You mean you really are actually  proposing –’ But Harold couldn’t quite say it, fearing foolishness.</p>
<p>‘I’m proposing marriage to you,’ Taylor  confirmed.</p>
<p>‘Oh, now I <em>know</em> you’re joking. What is this? Are we on Candid Camera or  something? What’s the punch line, Taylor?’</p>
<p>Silence, with Taylor looking stunned, and  maybe beneath the facade he was a little bit hurt.</p>
<p>All right, Harold supposed it wasn’t fair  of him not to treat the man seriously. Still… it was such a ridiculously  impossible scenario. ‘What happened to, <em>Love  costs too much</em>? What happened to, <em>Of  course I get lonely, but everyone does, so what</em>?’</p>
<p>Taylor shrugged this off, apparently  annoyed.</p>
<p>‘What happened to calling my marriage and  my life a Hallmark card?’</p>
<p>A sudden grin pushed aside Taylor’s  discomfort. ‘Hey, you and me, H, we can’t have a Hallmark relationship. They  don’t make queer cards, right?’</p>
<p>‘For Christ’s sake, now you’re calling us  queer.’</p>
<p>‘Well, what would you call it?’</p>
<p>Harold stared at the man, this friend he’d  thought he knew through and through. ‘Taylor, you may have had some time to get  used to these crazy ideas, but I’m still catching up, remember.’ A moment  before Harold could drop the flat tones, and ask more sincerely, ‘If love is so  over-priced, why do this? Why offer me so much?’</p>
<p>‘I love you anyway,’ Taylor muttered. ‘Nothing  could hurt as bad as leaving you alone to die on that mountain.’ The silence  stretched, and eventually he continued, ‘The way I see it, we get to make this  up to suit ourselves. Maybe we can decide love doesn’t have to cost as much. Because  I guess you being here made me realize I had a chance to see what life’s like  without the loneliness.’</p>
<p>More silence, though it was growing  comfortable now. Harold said gently, ‘Love can be a strength, my friend; it  doesn’t have to be a weakness.’</p>
<p>‘See what I mean? We can work this out to  suit ourselves. What happened to <em>We <strong>all</strong> make the world the way it is</em>? Loving  you doesn’t have to cost me freedom.’</p>
<p>‘What? You still want to fuck everything  with a pulse, no matter what happens between us?’</p>
<p>‘No. No, I reckon that’s a cost. I’ll bear  it, I’m willing to pay that price. You said it was worth it, H, you said it  would get better and better, if it’s just the two of us, and we get to know  each other real well. So maybe the cost won’t matter a damn compared to what we  gain.’ Taylor leaned close again, and said very reasonably, ‘Give it a try, H.’</p>
<p>‘I would, I really would, if I felt the  inclination.’ Harold met the man’s gaze in the dim light. ‘But I don’t, Taylor,  I’m just sitting here feeling numb, and that’s the hard truth.’</p>
<p>Taylor seemed unfazed by this blunt  rejection. ‘You’ll feel inclined,’ he said with the absolute confidence he had  patented years ago. ‘I know you love me.’</p>
<p>‘Of course I love you, fool. But that doesn’t  mean I want to have sex with you.’</p>
<p>‘Why not?’</p>
<p>‘There are different kinds of love,’ Harold  countered, wondering how Taylor couldn’t know that already.</p>
<p>‘Well, stay with me, H, and we’ll work on  you loving me that way. Because I love you; I love you every damned way there  is. I’ve never loved anyone else, I didn’t even know my parents, so I guess you’ve  ended up getting every kind of love I have in me.’</p>
<p>And Harold probably would have gone for it,  just done it despite the fact he couldn’t believe Taylor considered this as  anything more than a challenging fuck. Yes, he probably would have done it if  he wasn’t so numb. If his body, his instincts had led him into his friend’s  bed, then Harold’s heart and mind would have followed willingly enough.</p>
<p>‘<em>I’m</em> not numb,’ Taylor murmured seductively. ‘I’m wild and willing enough for both  of us.’</p>
<p>‘Spinning me lines isn’t going to help. You’re  going to fuck your way through the whole damned planet before you die, aren’t  you?’</p>
<p>‘This is different. How I feel is  different. But I don’t know anymore, H, how to make the loving different, I don’t  know what words to say that I haven’t said to a hundred other people. All I can  say is I love you, I’ll keep saying that because I’ve never meant it before. Everything  about this is new to me. You’ll have to show me how to be with you, how to say  things to you, how to be married. Because I don’t have the first idea.’</p>
<p>At a loss, Harold sat back, glanced at the  television. That stupid movie had finished, and some chat show was in its final  stages: he and Taylor must have been talking for almost a couple of hours. Talking  but getting nowhere, never really communicating. Harold sighed, wondering how  to end this, how to reach some kind of agreement. Which was when it struck  Harold that Taylor was being terribly open with him. Despite Harold’s stated  lack of interest, Taylor kept trying, kept talking honestly about things that  mattered to him, and it wasn’t just a line. Whatever the reason was that Taylor  wanted to have sex with Harold tonight, it mattered and it left the man  vulnerable. Taylor had invested a great deal of emotion in this.</p>
<p>Harold turned to find Taylor watching him  carefully, anticipation lightening his beautiful face. Slowly Taylor moved,  drew closer, approaching as if giving his prey every chance to take flight. And  even though he knew exactly what Taylor intended, Harold couldn’t or maybe  wouldn’t do anything to stop him. It would be unfair, surely, to not let the  man try, to not meet Taylor’s vulnerability with an effort of his own.</p>
<p>Taylor kissing him. No more talking. Mouth  and gentle hands were practiced and sure one moment, veering to nervous and  untried the next. That was when Harold began responding, to the nakedness in  Taylor’s kiss, to the rawness of his need.</p>
<p>The strangeness and the fear of it, the  wildness and the subversiveness of it, made it seem like they were seventeen  again. What on earth would it have been like if they’d done this back when they’d  first met, the two new boys in school each wanting a friend and finding no one  else? Back then, Harold had wondered why Taylor, who seemed to have everything  required for popularity, was having to settle for the geek. He’d been rather  awed by Taylor… What would it have been like back then, kissing that handsome  lean golden boy? For a while, Harold let the re-cast memories stimulate his  imagination and his participation, and he became urgent. Surely inevitable that  he would turn on to sex after this period of abstinence. Odd how familiar this  felt, when it was so outside what he’d known.</p>
<p>Soon Taylor was pulling away and standing,  grabbing Harold’s hand and tugging him up, eager for the more serious pleasures  to be found in his bedroom.</p>
<p>This was no time to be cowardly. Harold  stood and followed his friend, undressing with as little embarrassment as if  they were at the gym. The moment he felt the world shift under his feet was  when Taylor stretched out on the bed, waiting for Harold to join him: that was  scary, seeing the man beautiful and naked and full of promise. Almost  threatening, the lean muscularity, the… (he was nervous even thinking it) the  rampant male genitals.</p>
<p>‘Come on, H,’ Taylor said with that raw  need in his voice. Not just a physical need, that was what encouraged Harold; Taylor  had an emotional need for him, too.</p>
<p>Harold climbed onto the bed, took his  friend into his arms, was welcomed in a matching embrace, began another  marathon kiss. And then it became easy again, wonderful to have a warm body  moving against his, no matter what the gender. <em>Sex is sex is sex, I suppose</em>. Harold was soon so lost in sensation  it took him a while to realize Taylor was deliberately holding back, was hungry  but relatively passive. Loving and carefully not menacing. Maybe that was wise,  maybe Harold wouldn’t have coped with anything else, but he also felt slightly  cheated of the fullness of this experience.</p>
<p>There came the moment when, if he was with  Cindy, Harold would have grabbed her hips and buried himself within her moist  spicy heat. Instead he moaned a little, searching confusedly for another way. No  doubt sensing exactly what was wrong, Taylor leaned back a little to meet his  gaze, and hoarsely said, ‘You can fuck me, if you want.’</p>
<p>Harold was astounded.</p>
<p>‘Come on, H.’ Taylor sounded disappointed  that Harold didn’t simply take him up on the offer. A long moment of fear that  the urgency would dwindle away. ‘It’s no big deal,’ Taylor continued in  despairing plea. ‘I’ve had a finger or two in there before. Being highly sexed,  you just try everything. So go ahead – or don’t you want to?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t know.’ The blunt talk was both  reassuring and off-putting.</p>
<p>‘It shouldn’t hurt, if that’s what you’re  worried about. Although you are of course much larger than a finger or two.’</p>
<p>‘Don’t flatter me,’ Harold grumbled.</p>
<p>‘Come on, lover.’ Taylor turned within  Harold’s arms, stretched back against him.</p>
<p>That long beautiful honey-gold body waiting  to be taken, wanting to be all his. <em>If  anyone can resist this</em>, Harold thought, <em>he’s  a better man than I</em>.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>It was so damned good that the fucking was  the second thing Harold thought of on waking. His first thought was something  vague and warm about sharing a bed and his arms with someone he knew so well. He’d  missed this comfort. Then, having barely opened his eyes, Harold muttered, ‘I  want that again, I want to fuck you again.’</p>
<p>And Taylor was moaning his desire,  strangely clumsy until Harold was lying over him, both of them spread-eagled,  the intensity of it incredible.</p>
<p>Afterwards they dozed in each other’s arms,  both hungry and indulgent about cuddling and holding. At some stage, unsure  whether Taylor was asleep, Harold murmured, ‘Did you really like that? Or were  you putting on an act?’</p>
<p>‘I liked it,’ Taylor whispered.</p>
<p>‘Tell me why.’</p>
<p>The man shifted, settled again. ‘I’ve  seduced so many women; do you think I don’t understand about surrender? How  erotic it can be to give yourself over to another?’ Long lazy easy tones. ‘Do  you think I’m not happy letting you take your pleasure from me, H? You sure as  hell give me pleasure at the same time.’</p>
<p>‘But would you be happy if that was all we  did? I mean, if this was going to last for more than a night, would you want  more?’</p>
<p>‘A wealth of possibilities to explore, just  in you fucking me. But there’s so many other things we can do, too. More equal  things. You surrendering to me.’</p>
<p>Harold shivered a little, adamantly not  wanting that – but also knowing he would do it if Taylor insisted, knowing he  would do it sooner than would be wise, knowing that if Taylor asked him right  now…</p>
<p>‘We’re going to have plenty of time to  explore all this,’ Taylor was murmuring seductively, ‘plenty of time for this  adventure.’</p>
<p>There he was, talking in the long term  again. Taylor had even called this a proposal of marriage last night. Crazy,  the lengths the man would go to in order to get someone into his bed. Harold  sighed. He wasn’t really queer, though he had to admit the whole thing had been  easier and more rewarding than he ever would have imagined. As for Taylor, he  was too much the restless adventurer, his ego too caught up in getting laid  with as many different women as possible.</p>
<p>‘I love you,’ said Harold. ‘I love you no  matter what, Taylor. Sometimes I don’t like you very much. Sometimes you  disgust me, annoy the hell out of me. Sometimes I like you better than anything  else in the world. But I always love you.’</p>
<p>‘I love you, too, H.’ The man sounded  vastly comfortable.</p>
<p>‘You’re the only best friend I’ve ever had,  and I know it’s the same for you. The friendship is the vital thing here. So I  just want to tell you that I’ll always be your friend, and I’ll always love  you. This won’t change that. All right? If we got out of bed now and never  fucked again, that won’t change the friendship. If we spend the rest of the  week fucking, and pretending this is something it’s not, and then you bring  some woman home next Friday, and you and me is all over, that won’t change the  fact that we’re friends.’</p>
<p>By the end of this ramble, Taylor was  propped up on his elbows, looking down at Harold with a confused and desperate  frown. A long moment of silence, and Taylor pleaded hoarsely, ‘Have a little  faith in me, H. I can’t make this happen all on my own. I meant everything I  said, but I need you to have some faith in me or it won’t work.’</p>
<p>Harold’s heart felt as raw as Taylor’s  evidently was. Gently, Harold said, ‘It’s not just you, Taylor. Last time I  tried marriage I failed dismally, and I didn’t even notice. And we wouldn’t  exactly be a traditional couple. I don’t know how to make this work any better  than you do.’</p>
<p>‘Then have some faith in both of us, H. Promise  me you’ll try.’</p>
<p>‘I’ve broken promises before.’</p>
<p>Taylor groaned, hung his head for a moment’s  defeat. But he soon said, ‘Then <em>tell</em> me you’ll try, H. Make up your mind that we have a chance. You and me – we’re  the only people who reached the summit of K2 last season. If we’re that  determined, we can do anything.’</p>
<p>Harold reached a hand to caress the  beautiful face. ‘I just don’t understand where this came from, Taylor. The  number of women you’ve been with these past weeks –’</p>
<p>‘Don’t you see? Do you think I usually get  it that often? I’m not Superman, you know.’ Taylor grinned self-consciously. ‘Usually  it’s Friday and Saturday nights. Maybe Thursdays, too, if I can’t wait. But I  guess you scared me, the thought of what I could have with you scared me, and I  was in major denial.’</p>
<p>‘All right,’ Harold allowed.</p>
<p>‘I understand women, I know them, I can  give them everything they want – except I can’t make a commitment to any of  them. Maybe I want something different, something with mystery, something new  to learn. Maybe that’s where this came from.’</p>
<p>Harold nodded understanding. Whether the  man was right or wrong was irrelevant: at least this proved Taylor had been  thinking about it for a while, had felt the urge long enough to analyze it and  still pursue it. And Taylor was correct about the women he’d been with: he gave  them so much, he even gave them compassion and support and encouragement. Perhaps  some were disappointed at the little he expected in return, but mostly they  liked him and let him move on.</p>
<p>‘I like a challenge,’ Taylor said, ‘and I  guess making this work is as big a challenge as any.’</p>
<p>There was that glow in the man’s eyes, the  glow that took Taylor up sheer cliff faces, that won impossible court cases,  that demanded Harold’s love and faith. ‘You really want this,’ Harold said in  wonder, finally convinced. ‘You really want us married.’</p>
<p>‘If there was a ceremony, I’d do it,’  Taylor avowed with a grin. ‘If you want me to wear a ring, and take out an  announcement in the fucking paper, I will.’</p>
<p>A long moment, as Harold tried to deal with  the awesomeness of it all. ‘All right,’ he eventually said. ‘But it’s my  choice. You’ve got to know I’m not just doing this because you talked me into  it.’</p>
<p>‘I could never talk you into anything you  didn’t want to do. Don’t you know that?’</p>
<p>‘Your choice and mine,’ Harold said. And  they kissed, Taylor’s eyes intense and scared, his mouth hot and needy, veering  from giving to demanding and back again. Harold didn’t know whether he was more  amazed at what he was taking on, or at the idea it might actually work. At last  he broke away, and murmured, ‘You want a ceremony, Taylor, we’ll do that. We’ll  figure one out for ourselves. Next season, up a mountain somewhere. All right?’</p>
<p>‘Oh yeah,’ Taylor breathed, and they kissed  again.</p>
<p>♦</p>
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